


Life on Mars (Or in Gotham- Same Diff.)

by BasicCourtesy



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Self-Insert, Sometimes people of Gotham gotta be fed up, approximate knowledge of Batman, no beta we die like men, very short chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2021-01-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:33:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21684559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BasicCourtesy/pseuds/BasicCourtesy
Summary: Life in Gotham for an heiress is shallow and repetitive, and Stella likes it that way. If only so many parties weren't held at Wayne Manor and Bruce Wayne wasn't such a weirdo.A story about an heiress just trying to live her life.
Relationships: Bruce Wayne/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 121
Kudos: 329
Collections: A Collection of Beloved Inserts





	1. Chapter 1

A leaf settles on the surface of the pond, the ripples fading faster than should be possible in a pond of that size. The pond is a mirage instead of an oasis with the water shallower than it seems and something large hidden underneath.

She escaped the gala to find peace, and it seems that instead, she found a mystery. Stella was so tired of mysteries. Her entire life was a mystery, her job, her parents, this city was a mystery, and just one godforsaken time she would like to wander outside a billionaire’s house without finding some dumb-fucking, hidden (but not very well) secret.

Stella turned back to go inside. Who cares if she is going back to get groped by the same old man who used to whisper about her gold-digging “sexy” mother when she was a kid? What does it matter if the music and alcohol and crush of bodies soaked in perfume her duty makes her nauseous? No one and nothing. Stella is going to walk right back into that mansion, smile and act as an heiress of Gotham and never, ever think about that too shallow pond or what Bruce Wayne could be hiding in it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of the same bullshit.

The clock was stuck at 3:19, and was embedded into the wall slightly.

Stella really needed to stop attending these galas if they were going to be such a constant source of frustration for her. But she supposed she had been telling herself that since she was 12 and learned she had to start putting on a full-mask of make-up as she “blossomed into a woman,” yet here she was 11 years later and still attending parties at the Wayne Manor.

She knew this house’s architecture. It was in her mansion too. And her childhood best friends. And her ex-boyfriends. And every other elitist Gothamite that could claim their fortune was older than the turn of the century. And yet there that clock was embedded into the wall where it definitely shouldn’t be.

The wainscoting around the room should have forced the large (excessively large, as is the standard style) clock to stand several inches away from the wall’s surface but there was not even the slightest gap. And there was a break in both the wallpaper and wainscoting several feet away that she would have put up to reconstruction and age, if the fucking clock hadn’t been embedded into the wall and ticking- but still stuck at 3:19.

She really needed to get out of that house- and Gotham while she’s at it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in Gotham is Wack (look it's the theme of Stella's life)

Stella couldn’t understand why everyone was ok with how Gotham was run. The morals and decisions of the people around made no sense.

Sure, she could understand the rampant corruption in the corporate world and the dirty cops in the police force. Stella expected gangs and homelessness and could come to terms with the blatant mob activity. Life sucked and was full of people that wanted it to suck just that much more. But no matter how many years she lived in Gotham; she would never, ever get the hokey villains.

From what she remembered; life just shouldn’t be like that. She was still on Earth and people were still technically people (even though some now had powers and were aliens?), but everyone was also batshit crazy.

People picked a theme and stuck with it, they stuck with it hard. Psychos chose an animal or an occupation and killed people with it. Even “normal” citizens rose in the crazy estimation because they reacted like it was normal. Yes, they ran screaming from a freak with a bomb but that was because he was threatening their lives and not because he was dressed unironically as a condiment. And then by the next day, they were over it.

And it wasn’t even just Gotham, Central City might have been less corrupt but it had just as many weirdly scary criminals. Metropolis was less themed but Stella had met Lex Luthor and he was just as sketchy as the Joker but people were still letting him wander around freely.

Life on Earth was wack, and Stella just couldn’t figure out what made this life so much stranger than the last one.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella learns that intelligence doesn't really equal wisdom
> 
> And some reputations are well earned

So, she slept with Bruce Wayne.

Stella hadn’t started out the night intending for it to happen but it did. And while it definitely will not happen again, she couldn’t say she really regretted it. Man, his reputation was not unearned- and he was so committed to maintaining it, too.

But, again, she didn’t mean for it to happen. 

She was attending yet another gala. Not at Wayne’s house- fortunately, she hadn’t been back since the clock thing. But just because she wasn’t amidst the den of secrets begging to be discovered doesn’t mean the gala was any more fun. In fact, it sucked more without a distraction.

So, she did what she always did and escaped to the place least likely to see other people. This time, her haven was the study of whatever “philanthropist” was throwing the get-together. Stella had been taking slow, clear breaths when the door inched open. And what do you know but Bruce Wayne came into the room, just as covert as a baby hiding under a blanket.

When Wayne saw Stella, he composed himself admirably. Too admirably for a supposedly dumb, playboy surprised to see a woman in a room neither had a reason to be in.

“Ms. Soames! You look radiant as always,” the charm emerged quickly, with no hint of surprise of her presence ever showing.

Stella stared at Wayne for several seconds before saying, “Brucie. Why are you up here instead of at the party? It doesn’t really seem your scene.”

He clearly wasn’t expecting to be questioned if she read the pause in his response right. Good- maybe he’d leave if she made him uncomfortable enough.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion of Stella and Bruce's night. Is it the beginning of a love story? Polling indicates that both parties are annoying and don't see the relationship going anywhere.

He didn’t leave.

If there was one thing that Stella learned the night that she had sex with Brucie, it was that when he was uncomfortable, he didn’t back away. He double-downed. He double-downed so hard that Stella was already naked and sated before her better sense could warn her away.

Before, she was under the impression that the entirety of Gotham was idiotic and delusional. Now, having made her own series of naked mistakes, she was willing to cut them some slack.

Brucie definitely met her expectations of him after the fact too. If Stella had considered sleeping with Bruce Wayne for any significant length of time before actually, you know, sleeping with him, her consideration would include Brucie slinking away before morning.

So, Stella was only slightly surprised when she pulled together the parts of her mind that had exploded and opened her eyes to find him already buttoning up his shirt. She had thought that he could afford to stay for at least one more round, but billionaire-playboy-secret-keepers were a busy breed.

“Make sure to leave the money on the nightstand,” Stella may have understood and she may not have had any interest in pursuing anything further, but damn anyone who thought they could treat her like a throw-away- fling or otherwise.

“Ah, I thought you were asleep or I would have said something,” Brucie had paused in pulling on the rest of his cover, made his way over to Stella and bent down- she assumed for a kiss.

“Oh, silly me. You were going to leave a naked woman sleeping in the host’s office at a party. Carry on then,” Stella said. Even the famously-oblivious Prince of Gotham couldn’t miss the implications of violence in her tone, and Brucie backed away.

He grimaced slightly to himself before smiling sheepishly.

“It is not as if this situation is unique at parties like this, but you are right. I should have made sure you were awake first,” Brucie said. His tone was apologetic but final, it didn’t matter to him if she accepted the implied apology. Maybe he had gleaned from her tone that she wasn’t in the mood for anything more or maybe he too felt that their shared time was over, but he shot her one last smile and continued gathering his things.

He had fully dressed with only his tie and a few buttons undone when he reached for a metal fob on the desk, only for Stella to interrupt him.

“Your keys are over there, in that pile, along with your wallet and phone,” Stella gestured to the area where she vaguely remembered Brucie distractedly tossing his things earlier.

There was a pause before he responded, “Ahaha, thanks. That would have been embarrassing.”

Stella smiled, radiating good cheer for the moment, before sitting up and beginning her own show of dressing. By the time her dress was hooked over her shoulders, Brucie was at the door.

“This was fun. I hope we have the chance to do it again.”

“It was certainly something, Mr. Wayne,” Stella may have held her suspicions on the veracity of Brucie Wayne’s personality, but she didn’t want to give him any ideas regardless.

“Ms. Soames,” another smiled twitched its way across his face, contorting it in a way she hadn’t seen on Brucie’s face before.

He left swiftly, his shoulders taut and the door slamming behind him. Stella wasn’t sure why, but she had a feeling that she was the only one who left the study satisfied that night.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella meets Batman and it is magical.

While Stella had been, in the most technical of terms, _kidnapped_ and while she knew she should probably call the police, she was very tired and was missing her shoes and cellphone and with the way the world was spinning she had either hit her head harder than expected or she had been drugged and she really just wanted to be home and sleeping already.

Her bare foot slid shuffled into the side of something on the ground, causing the sound of rolling glass to skitter across the narrow walls. She followed the sound and bent to pick up the bottle. She may have been slightly out of it but she was aware enough to know that nothing quite hurt like broken glass to the face, and she didn’t have many other options for protection.

It wasn’t even like the kidnappers were at all competent. Growing up as a rich kid in Gotham meant that Stella had been mugged or abducted multiple times before she had even grown breasts and the more horrifying implications of kidnapping would become apparent.

It was clear they had formulated their plan from what they had seen in movies- taking her shoes so she couldn’t run far was a good choice, even Stella could admit that. But they hadn’t tied her nearly as secure as they should have and they left her alone for a very long period of time. Even if she wasn’t capable of escaping, the health risks of leaving an unconscious woman alone that long could have severely harmed their chances of obtaining their ransom money.

Stella had escaped without even running into a single one of her kidnappers. Unfortunately for her, she had been brought to an unknown location and she might have been slightly lost.

Stella didn’t really think she could be blamed for not knowing where she was. It wasn’t like she often wandered around the shitty parts of Gotham (well the _more_ shitty parts of Gotham) in the middle of the night, with no GPS, or clear mind.

As she stumbled around another grimy corner, trying to ignore the interesting textures between her toes and the sign she thought she passed four turns ago, Stella also didn’t think she could be blamed for being slightly jumpy.

“You have passed this intersection three times in the past twenty minutes,” the low voice behind her caused Stella to spin around and pitch the bottle she had been grasping toward where she assumed a throat would be.

The bottle was easily blocked, but the fist she followed it up with connected.

It was only after Stella stumbled out of her punch that she looked to see who had been watching her. She saw the sheen of the Kevlar first, and then the outline of the ears against the hazy and distant street lights.

Batman. Of course, on the second worst night of her month, it had to be Batman she punched.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's not the best chapter, but it was just not flowing and I got tired of looking at it. I hope you enjoyed it anyway.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella talks to the Batman. It's about what she expects.

“Whoops.”

Stella hadn’t met the Batman before, but she had heard rumors. The pressing silence, the intimidating silhouette, the feeling that one wrong move would have you beaten to a pulp and sent (unfairly, her acquaintances assured her) to the big house.

As she stood in the Gotham gloom, Stella could verify those rumors. The lingering stare did nothing for her already unsteady state of mind. Was she going to be the next victim of the Batman? Did it still count as assault if the person she hit was a vigilante? Surely, he wouldn’t punish her for being startled after being kidnapped. Although, with no kidnappers in sight, Stella had no idea how he would know she had been abducted. But why would she be wandering the streets, barefoot, for so long if something wasn’t wrong?

Everything she had heard about him indicated that the Batman didn’t give much thought to the nuances of a person’s situation.

“Well, I wouldn’t have punched you if you had approached like a normal person,” she tried to explain.

His silence lingered.

“Of course, the fact you are dressed like a bat. Alone in the middle of the night. In _very_ tight leather, probably says more about you not being normal that accosting a woman on the street.”

The Batman stared at her, if he was anyone else, she would say that there was a smirk hidden at the corner of his mouth. But he was and the Batman was notoriously lacking in humor.

“So, in conclusion. Bring it on creep. I’ll punch you again. No regrets!” Stella pulled her fists up near her face and the Batman raised his hands in surrender.

“No punching necessary. I am sorry for startling you. I should have approached more carefully and it is definitely my fault that you punched me,” when Stella lowered her hands with a suspicious glare, the Batman slowly began approaching her.

“Do not take this the wrong way, but you seem a bit lost to be the type to wander the streets at 2 a.m.”

“No doy, dumbass. I’m distress. I was kidnapped.”

Behind the mask, his eyes sharpened. His voice had roughened slightly when he spoke again, “Do you know who did it?”

“No. And it doesn’t really matter. This wasn’t the first time I have been kidnapped and it won’t be the last,” Stella rolled her eyes. Kidnapping was a very tedious pastime for criminals to have. She had accepted that the people of Gotham would never give up crime, but would it kill them to commit murder or robbery or something?

“Of course it matters. They kidnapped you and based on how you have been swaying the past five minutes, they also drugged you.”

“Welcome to Gotham.”

The Batman must have seen her resolve not to continue her involvement in the conversation because he sighed. “Fine. I will not push you but let me at least get you home.”

“I don’t know. I’m not the type to put out on the first date,” Stella winked at him. And then something happened that brightened her night and gave her bragging rights forever, not that anyone would believe her.

After a surprised blink, the Batman snickered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter did not want to come out. Ideas are fun but writing is soooo hard


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella loses hope in almost all of humanity and Gotham is the city of irony

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TBH I didn't even reread this so I can't guarantee quality but I hope you enjoy it anyway

Maybe it was due to her having slept with him, but Stella had really thought- _hoped_ \- that Bruce Wayne was different. That even with all his secrets, and shady behavior, he wasn’t as corrupt as the rest of the elite of Gotham.

Finding out that Wayne Enterprise’s newly acquired subsidiary was just an elaborate front for human trafficking must have been some sort of divine punishment for daring to hope. From what Stella could tell, Wayne Enterprise had gone out of its way to acquire the company with significant losses to revenue and no income was predicted to make up for the loss. Literally, the only reason that WE would want the smaller front would be for their illegal dealings.

Stella didn’t know why the disappointment came as a shock to her. She had honestly thought that she was used to it. She grew up disappointed her new parents when she couldn’t help but compare them to her old ones. And she stayed disappointed when she accepted that the couple were their own people (independent of her previous life) but the people they were, were selfish and shitty. She was disappointed in the money-grubbing options she had for friends in private school. Disappointment hit hard when the few friends she made almost anonymously on the streets couldn’t overcome the curse of Gotham and turned to crime for better opportunities. On the days Stella was a little too drunk or a bit too sad, and she attempted to psychoanalyze her life, Stella thought that this new world of hers wasn’t marked by the wacky powers she saw but by the disappointment that haunted her.

So why was she still surprised that she could be disappointed by Bruce Wayne? She supposed she had fallen into the fallacy that an interesting person was a good one. Or, even something even more of a blow to her ego, she believed that just because she saw through some of his more obvious attempts at cover, she understood who he was as a person. But clearly, she was wrong.

Brucie Wayne was just like every other rich guy in Gotham (and the world at large), ready to screw over anyone in his way of a few more bucks. Stella was done falling for it, she didn’t care if she knew the shape of his dick or for finding out what was behind his secret walls, prison would probably uncover all of that anyway.

She may be growing more used to the way the world worked with each passing day, learning how to take advantage of potential business partners’ weak spots and the shadows between the letter of the law. She may be increasingly desperate to find some good in her world that didn’t come in the form of capes and superpowers. She may even be treading the line of legality in her quest for information and entertainment but she was going to do something this time, and she knew one person in Gotham that she could trust not to be corrupt.

Now all she needed to do was find the Batman.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stella formulates a plan. It will be fun for approximately no one.

There were many ways an interested party could get in touch with the Batman, unfortunately, the vast majority of the ways would lead to Stella being thrown in the hospital and then prison immediately after. Keeping the potential maiming and incarceration in mind, Stella was left with becoming a victim or a general nuisance, and she had already been a victim once that month.

A trip to the cheap general store (the one right on the edge of the poorer part of town that kept their prices low and their items eclectic and didn’t make enough money to be worth facing off the ex-con staff to rob) put the ownership of several hundred rat traps of varying kinds in Stella’s possession.

She tied her shoes tightly and tucked in her clothes to keep the loose sections from snagging, and then she eyed the easiest-to-climb fire escape she could spot.

She was in for a long several nights of lugging the large sack across the Gotham rooftops, like a particularly malicious Santa, leaving gifts for a very special boy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I reread none of this but I needed to start writing again.
> 
> Thank you so much for everyone who has reviewed and/or given this story kudos! I am very lazy but don't think I do not appreciate it


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A secret rooftop escapade happens.

Stella slowly drew her hand away from the rat trap, the spring pulled taut and ready to snap at the slightest movement. Adjacent to the wooden traps were several plastic glue traps, the two combined to create a mosaic cross the roof of the building and a dozen random building across the Gotham skyline It would be hard for any normal person to avoid being caught in the traps once they had landed on the roof, and even a trained acrobat would need to exert extraordinary concentration to escape unscathed.

The Batman must have noticed the traps by then; Stella had been setting them up for the past several days and had spent thousands of dollars on the rat traps. She checked on her booby-trapped buildings every day, and while she had certainly caught rats and sky rats and bugs of enormous (possibly supernatural) size, she had also noticed several traps missing and sprung with no sign of a culprit.

There was very little doubt that the Batman hadn’t noticed the traps, but whether he knew it was her or if he would confront her about it was still up in the air.

Stella scuttled back and reached for her sack of Bat traps, but her searching hand only found air. With her face twisted in confusion she turned around and saw darkness.

The Batman stood there, staring at Stella with his fist clutched around her bag.

“You did not seem like the type to engage in petty vandalism,” the Batman said.

“I wouldn’t really call this _vandalism_ , per se. It’s more like a public duty—I’m cleaning up Gotham’s streets—I mean roofs.” Stella was really getting tired of the disbelieving silences that seemed to follow her around.

“Yes. I am sure that was your intention. A public service,” for some reason Stella found no sincerity in the Batman’s voice. “Unfortunately, despite your intentions, this is still considered a crime—littering at best and public endangerment at worst. Do I need to arrest you or just confiscate these?”

This was her chance, Stella straightened her back and stared the intimidating shadow in what might have been his face, “I’ll tell you what caped crusader, if you listen to what I have to say, I promise you won’t find me trapping roofs again.”

Stella imagined that the Batman was not usually open to negotiating with criminals, even the petty ones, so as she stood waiting for his answer, her legs tensed in preparation to run.

“Well, if you had some information to share, there is no better time to share it,” the relief from hearing those words, even from the Batman’s gravel-infused voice, released all the tension from Stella’s muscles and sent blood rushing to her brain. Now that she thought about it, the Batman was kind of sexy.

“I don’t know how much of an eye you keep on Wayne Enterprises, and Bruce Wayne in particular, but there is something I think you should know.”

Stella reached toward the Batman slowly and pulled the bag of Bat traps away from him, pulling a thick file, built from intense investigation and tied together with a bow, from within. She hadn’t wasted her last several days only to be dismissed because she did not have evidence. Neither her nor the Batman would be leaving until she walked him through all the crimes Brucie “Motherfucking” Wayne and his company had committed and until she had his assurances that the trafficking ring would be not only shut down, but obliterated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, this goes up with no rereading so be forgiving.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are no consequences for rich, attractive people. What else is new?

“The Batman Brings Down Trafficking Ring, Wayne Enterprises Plays Surprising Part in the Takedown!”

 _What the fuck._ Stella couldn’t stop glaring at the article. She had expected to wake up to a thousand texts crying for Brucie Wayne’s incarceration and multiple twitter meltdowns, but instead she was faced with this bullshit.

According to the _Gazette_ , WE had played a crucial role in uncovering the corruption of their newly acquired “antique” company, with Bruce Wayne in particular vowing to make reparation for the people that had been affected by the human trafficking.

It was honestly baffling how willing the news in Gotham (and that world, really) was to over-look the crimes of rich men. And apparently even Batman followed the trend.

Stella was going to get answers. She had tried giving Wayne the benefit of the doubt, she had tried talking to Batman. All she had left was confronting the problem herself.

…

Stella stood in Bruce Wayne’s manor, glaring harshly at the ostentatious chandelier that dangled dozens of feet above her head. There was one just like it in her parent’s own manor, but somehow the Wayne chandelier was even sparklier and grander than the multi-million, generation-old heirloom that the Soames family was so proud of. Normally, the fact that her parents’ misplaced pride was squashed would make Stella understandably smug, but she couldn’t help but find every gratuitous sparkle supremely irritating.

She had been graciously let into the Wayne manor by an older man-butler, a man who was very kind despite her less than patient demands to enter, and had been told to wait in the foyer until “Master Bruce” was available.

“Master Bruce.” Of course, the fucker had his butler call him master, as if he wasn’t bad enough.

Stella could feel herself being worked up into a lather with every pace across the marble flooring. How did Bruce Wayne convince Batman not to arrest him? It made no sense. He wasn’t even convincing enough to make her believe his innocence when he was literally inside her, did he just pull out all the seductive stops for Batman.

Somehow that pissed her off even more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be longer and with the actual confrontation in it but... writing is hard and sticking with one writing project is harder.
> 
> Other news I have started like 3 other OC stories that I will probably never finish.


	12. Brucie 'Fuckface' Wayne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuation of a confrontation a long time coming

“Stella!” Brucie Wayne’s deep and deeply irritating voice rang out from behind her.

As she swung around, Stella could feel her eyebrows bunch together. She hadn’t realized that Wayne had come up behind her. She was well aware of the nature of cavernous marble architecture; she should have been able to hear him well before he was close enough to invade her 6-foot personal bubble.

Stella looked down at his “casual” oxfords and then up to his lying fucking face. He had so much potential; sure, he was the shallowest man in the shallowest city on this side of the multiverse, but by most public accounts he was also the cleanest.

Stella pulled on her Gotham-face and looked him in the eye, “The only thing I don’t regret about sleeping with you is the fact that you were very sensible about using a condom. Not even the orgasms were worth it.”

Wayne stared at her, the perfect picture of flabbergasted, but Stella knew better than to believe him. Never again would Brucie Wayne receive the benefit of the doubt from her.

“I don’t know what I did to make you think that, but allow me to make it up to you.” Wayne schmoozy, fucking face was crafted into a mask of confusion and apology, but behind the veneer, Stella couldn’t find a trace of surprise.

“Why wouldn’t he arrest you?”

“I don’t know what you are talking about, I haven’t done anything to be arrested for. So why would the police arrest me?”

“I had files of evidence that said otherwise. Of course, I had to be a trusting moron and think there was still at least one good person in Gotham, leaving me without literal hours—I’m a socialite, I’m not built for such finger-breaking labor—of work and no actual evidence, but I know you were a part of it.”

“Well, since I still don’t quite know what you are talking about, I am going to have to say I wasn’t. I’ve been a part of several things lately—all fun but none quite exciting enough to get Stella Soames to show up at my doorstep. And I don’t believe for a second your fingers weren’t built for hours of ambidextrous _labor_ , the opposite in my experience.”

“We-w-well, that has nothing to do with this! Don’t fuck around with me, Wayne, I am being serious”

“Me too, it’s all around town how you found that loophole to allow your company to send relief after all that horrible business with Zod and LexCorp,” Wayne’s words could have been soothing if his tone didn’t hide some sort of amusement in it.

“What about that horrible business with you, Wayne Enterprises, and 13 underage girls funneled through WE warehouses in the past three weeks? You should have been arrested. Instead, you are being hailed as a hero, right along with Batman”

Wayne didn’t even blink before answering, “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“Don’t give me that. You, personally, bought those warehouses after several girls went missing, along with several nearby under false, but very obvious, covers. Then, conveniently the heads of the ring come to Gotham and you happen to become a holder for their fake-as-fuck company? Pull the other one fuckface.” There were so many “coincidences” connecting Wayne to this case that it was honestly a miracle Stella wasn’t accusing him of being the true ring leader, maybe his pond was abnormally shallow because he had a cave full of traumatized children under it.

This time, before answering Wayne paused to think over his answer.

“I have a particular interest in antiques and the money to buy the warehouses to store them. I bought the other warehouses because, well,” Wayne reached up his unfairly muscled arm to rub the back of his neck in feigned, malicious bashfulness, “I was also going to acquire some of the merchandise for Alfred, my butler, you met him at the door, and had to keep it hidden as a surprise.”

“Are you screwing Batman?” The bewildered silence that followed Stella’s question was strangely familiar, but she did not take the time to analyze why. She didn’t even take the time to analyze why she asked.

“It would make sense. Not only did that piss-poor excuse you just give me lack any logic, Batman has way more toys than any unconnected vigilante could ever afford, you disappeared for years and came back around the same time the first sightings of Batman emerged, you are frequently kidnapped but rarely hurt or held for long—almost like you have someone watching over you, and also you are shady as fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Life has hit me hard. Don't you beautiful people who send comments think I don't love you with 100% of my heart though, I live for you

**Author's Note:**

> Very short, infrequent updates. But I am trying, ok?


End file.
